If it's not Raven, it's crap...

I’ve been fighting a huge craving for Taco Bell all day long. I don’t know how the idea got in my head, but I can’t seem to shake it. It’s not even so much that I want tacos or Mexican(-ish) food. In fact, I think if someone were to make a taco and put it right in front of me (ok, admittedly, I would eat it). However, there would be a part of my soul that would be entirely disappointed that it wasn’t Taco Bell. I found the Unofficial Taco Bell Blog this afternoon. I highly recommend it, especially if you (in their words) want to know more about the "seemingly endless wonders of Taco Bell". If you are jonesing for the Bell, however, this site will do nothing but compound the problem. Maybe part of the reason that I can’t stop thinking about it, is because Tunde is coming to Hamburg next Tuesday. And when I think Tunde , I think about the Air Force. When I think of the Air Force, I think about how the only Taco Bells in Germany are located on Air Force bases. These location

"No dick is as hard as life." Königstrasse S-Bahn Station

Smif n Wesson - "Timbz Do Work" ft. Heltah Skeltah Note: Schmiddy sent me a mail this morning at 2:48am, after arriving back at home from the world's best rap concert ever. I'm not normally one to do guest posts, but this was hilarious to me. Also, me and Schmiddy are like BFF. My edits (for clarity/content) are in brackets. Otherwise, this is all his doing. ************* Y’all know I usually wouldn’t ask for a guest entry, because y’all muh’fuckas been reading this shit for years, just like me. But this is special, this is special muh’fuckas. And yeah, I’ll be calling you muh’fuckas a lot, because rap told me to and because I put it in my clipboard. But I mean it in the most sincere, respectful and beloved way possible – rest assured muh’fuckas. Schmiddy's not-so-yellow Timbs + icicle accessoires. Click for a close up. So the reason I wanna post here, muh’fuckas, is because I would like you muh’fuckas to take a look at my Timbs. That’s right, these used to be p

The Mulatto Revolution: Ur doin it rong... but I'll cut you some slack this time. Remy , my favorite little brother, became a dad last Wednesday. Coming from a so-called " mega-family " (my half-siblings have half-siblings), new nieces and nephews aren't really that new. In fact, my second oldest brother and his wife had their first kid last October. That makes the count -- give or take, pending a paternity test or two -- eleven. I created a little photo album over on Facebook (because I can't be bothered with creating an email address book, thus handicapping my ability to send group emails). To my surprise, I got a few messages from people congratulating me . That was kind of a trip, seeing as how I really can't take any credit at all for any part of this little guy's existence. Seriously. One time, in a fit of anger, I gave my brother a solid kick to the nuts. Granted that was yeeeeeaaars ago, but still... probably somewhat counterproductive to his repro

Last week, I wrote how the promise of free food and booze doesn't quite cut it anymore in terms of attracting people to a social gathering. However, the truth is that I'll actually show up just about anywhere where free stuff is being offered, especially if that free stuff is food or booze. In fact, this was basically the deciding factor between participating in live band karaoke last night or going to a sex toy party. I love karaoke, whether it's living room SingStar or climbing onto a stage to assist the incomparable Lady Etch with "Proud Mary" after she'd consumed one Astra Rotlicht too many and forgotten the words to the song. I don't know if I love sex toys as much as I love karaoke (I don't discount the possibility), but I'm definitely drawn to interesting sounding ideas/situations. So, when someone tells me that a sex toy party is "like a Tupperware party, but with dildos" -- then consider my interest piqued. Growing up in the So

The 2009 Super Awesome Party Calendar is an idea that's been floating around my head for the past couple of weeks. Not like I have time to be all partyplannericious at the moment (finding a new job has shot its way up to the top of my priority list). However, a lot of my friends in Hamburg happened to be born in 1979 and are turning 30 this year. Turns out that the Smashing Pumpkins were right and "cool kids never have the time". It's become increasingly difficult to get people to come party. Don't get me wrong, I know and understand the reasons for this, namely that we work all damn week, some (most?) of us with unbearable co-workers and jobs. It's tough enough to muster up the energy to go back day after day and at the end of the week all you want is just a little bit of "me"-time. Plus, if you're gonna have a party, then it can pretty much only happen on Friday or Saturday night...or if you luck out and it's a 3-day-weekend then MAYBE (jus